Over the years I have retold the dream of what I considered the best way for me to die.  The concept is based on the death of Bing Crosby.  I had originally heard the story that he died while playing golf after hitting his tee drive on the 17th.  Which of course lead to the jokes that his team mates had to drag Bing, hit the ball, drag Bing etc

For some obscure reason I recently decided to research this story and it turns out it was partially wrong.  Old Bingo played a round of golf in Spain with a good friend playing against local pros, with handicap Bing and his partner beat the pros (Bing shot an 85) and after shaking hands as they were walking to the clubhouse he dropped down dead from a heart attack.  Not a bad way to go.  Apparently the story I had heard 30 years ago was based on the report that after hitting the tee shot at 17 he mentioned numbness in his left arm and a bit of a pain. But still parred the hole. 

Now that is truly the way I want to go.  Granted it leaves the opportunity for my children to write books claiming how evil I was when they were growing up. 

Sad when you think of it that with all his singing and movie roles, he is most remembered by the horrible stories told by his sons.  I dearly hope that if I ever die after playing a round of golf where I beat the local pros that my kids will have the good taste to ignore my evil ways when they were children.  (unless of course they can make good money on the publishing rights in which case good for them)